The Deleted Mistake
by themagickat
Summary: Just a very quick shot of what happened between the wedding and the Sex Scene from Hell. Written as an effort to try and understand/explain the reasoning behind why they hooked up. Not my best work, but alright I guess. LiamxAmy, Liamy. I do not own anything. *very mild straight sex scene*


"I've had enough… of your insolence."

The waiter smirked at her and climbed into the van, fueling Amy's anger even more. Great, now her only source of alcohol was driving away like some kind of… kind of…. Fuck. If she was sober, she'd totally have a good analogy for it. There was a person behind the van and it only took a second for her eyes to adjust and focus on the bedraggled mess that was the one and only Liam Booker. She couldn't tell what about him was making her more angry at the moment; the fact he was there at all, the fact he'd slept with Karma, or the fact that he was currently holding the last bottle of champagne she would be able to get her hands on.

She stared him down for a solid minute as she debated and he at least had the decency to look scared and ashamed. Making her decision she stalked over to him, wobbling only slightly more than normal on those damned heels she'd let Karma talk her into. He straightened up slightly as she approached, inching himself up the fence as he prepared to run. She stopped, probably closer to him than she should be, and gave him a withering look.

"You ruined my entire life. The least you could do is give me your alcohol." She grabbed the champagne from his hand, not waiting for an answer, and took a long drink straight from the bottle that she realized belatedly he'd probably had his mouth all over. Oh well, not like he hasn't had his mouth all over what was hers anyway. She pulled the bottle from her lips and regarded him with liquor-soaked eyes. "What's wrong with you? Why are you…" She trailed off, gesturing at his state of disarray.

"Karma lied to me. She –" He broke off and looked at her with baleful eyes. "She broke my heart."

Amy regarded him coolly, deliberating. Finally she held the bottle out to him. "Mine too." He locked eyes with her as he cautiously took the bottle, watching for her to turn on him, for the moment he needed to be scared. But her anger had been redirected for the time being and he was safe. He guzzled down the expensive beverage and looked at her as she stared at him. Trying to see what was so much better about Liam Booker than there was about her. Sure, he was handsome. His eyes were expressive and shit and maybe his body was decent. Maybe he was a better kisser. When they had kissed during that stupid threesome of Karma's, it had been nice. Pleasant. Like finding little butterflies in a field.

And right now, Amy could use some butterflies.

She leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his. He didn't move, and neither did she. She was about to pull away, chalk it up to dumb drunken mistakes, when his lips began to move against hers. Butterflies. She dropped the forgotten champagne flute from her fingers and wrapped an arm around his neck as his hands, somehow empty now, caressed her cheeks and hair. She pressed into him, wanting more butterflies and more good sensations that would make her forget how shitty she felt right now.

She pulled back and grabbed his hand, blindly leading him towards her house. She didn't care if any of her mother's guests saw, hell or if her mother saw. She had already written Amy off as the rebellious, uncouth lesbian who only brought shame to the family. Might as well prove her right. They passed through into a dark hallway and suddenly Amy was falling backwards, falling into the arms that had halted her progress.

Liam held her, pressed against his chest, lips scant inches apart as they waited. For someone to find them, for one of them to come to their senses and call it off, for anything that would stop them before it was too late. But then Amy was leaning towards him and his lips were there to catch hers and they were making out in the hallway outside the kitchen where she could hear her mom and new step-father talking in hushed tones.

She pulled him past the kitchen and up the stairs, tripping over each other as they tried to kiss and go up at the same time. His hands were everywhere now, and so were hers. Pulling and tearing and pushing they barely made it to Amy's room before her dress was pulled over her head and his clothes were falling off of him.

She held on to thoughts of butterflies and the quick happiness she could draw from them as she fell onto her bed, pulling him down with her. And then he was on her and grinding and she had no idea what to do but hey her body seemed to like it at least a little bit if the sensations she was getting were anything to go by. Then he moved and she moved and maybe she did know what she was doing, after all. Her hips lifted almost of their own volition as she met his searching thrusts and –yes, there it was again! Something pressing on her clit and making her clench all over. Her fingers dug into his back hard, but she didn't care. She needed to leave her mark on something, needed to know she made a difference on something. Was she supposed to be thinking this much?

Letting her mind drift into the alcohol sea that comprised her blood vessels now, she tried to stop thinking about why or what and just let sensation take over. All the happy little butterflies and none of the evil thoughts about You Know Who.

Her mouth met his for every needing kiss, wanting and pulling and nothing but take from both of them. Taking what they needed and giving nothing in return. After all, what can you give when you're empty inside?

They barely parted to remove the scant underwear they were wearing. Pushing everything down until they could kick it off without losing contact. Her rational mind came back only briefly to be grateful Liam had remembered to grab a condom, because she really didn't need to make that mistake. But then he came back and again it was only skin and lips and feelings that were entirely superficial and entirely what she needed. He delved into her quickly and she almost blacked out from the sudden, full feeling. But then he was moving and it felt better and God why wasn't she enjoying it? Sex is supposed to be amazing, isn't it? And then her traitorous mind thought of Karma and she started to picture Karma on top of her, Karma kissing her nipples, Karma thrusting and thrusting until –

She came hard, clenching tight against the already too-tight intrusion in her and it was too much for Liam, who clenched and spasmed inside of her as she came down from her high. They lay panting on the bed as they caught their breath, sobriety setting in with the afterglow.

She felt horrible. Sticky, used, and fake. Liam sat up with the same jerky movements and could barely look at her as he dressed, guilt written all over his face.

"I'm s-"

"Look, I-"

"No, You-"

"Go ah-"

They spoke over each other in halting half-formed words. Amy bit her lip tight, her automatic response to an awkward situation.

"Well… Thanks." Liam patted her on the head and paused, brow scrunched as if even he couldn't believe how he was leaving it and turned for the door, cummerbund and tie grasped in his fist, only the essential clothing needed to leave having been the priority.

The door shut behind him and Amy slumped back onto the bed, feeling horrible. She wrapped herself into a cocoon with her comforter and tried to will the alcohol to come back and slip her into a coma, wanting this night to just fucking end already.


End file.
